


A Crown in Time

by imthepunchlord



Category: A Hat in Time (Video Game)
Genre: Family Feels, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, dad Snatcher, needs to research how to dad, what do you do when you discover you have a kid from an alternate time?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2020-06-29 07:39:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19825558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imthepunchlord/pseuds/imthepunchlord
Summary: In an effort to get a leg up on this annoying kid, Snatcher delves into hidden secrets, and makes a big discovery that changes everything.





	1. With a Shadow of Doubt

**Author's Note:**

> Crown in Time is an au idea where time traveler Hat Kid is from another time line, one where Snatcher never died and she's his kid. Its an idea developed between me, my sister, and my friend.

Snatcher was a genius. 

Not to cast his own shadow, but there was no denying his true ingenuity. No other had his craftiness, his sly, his cunning. He ruled Subcon Forest with his deeply rooted talons, every shadow an extension of himself, every residence there to bask in his darkness, tied to him in some shape or form. And for a lifetime, it was like this, all sorted and figured out. 

Till one cocky kid that decided all of his forest was also hers and she could go where she pleases. 

It was annoying. 

An anomaly. 

She made no sense. 

This whole thing made no sense. 

But, Snatcher could work with this, he was a genius, after all. And geniuses like himself had a plan. When that useless book of child murder failed him, it's only natural for Snatcher to take the next plausible action in taking out this kid. 

Snooping! 

Everyone, but him, had a weakness. Something to hide and keep secret. And a few times, from where he lounged in the back of her room, he has noticed this kid slipped away and hid herself away in this mound of pillows. He always thought it was weird how she liked to do that, maybe where she was from her people lived and slept under pillows; logically, that is where her weakness lay. 

So, with that conclusion, he waited till she was gone to do who knows what, and slipped under those pillows, finding the hidden fort beneath it. A fort that was way to small for his grand size and with a scoff, he shrunk himself down, looking over the simple fort. His smile grew at the sight of a laid out diary.

“Why hello, secrets,” he murmured, his giddy barely contained as he started to look. His excitement fell away when he saw the strange symbols of her alien language, no clear translation for him to even get a grasp of what was written. A rare frown slid over his lips as he pouted at the diary. 

Not one to give up, he started to flip through it, hoping that perhaps she had some pictures or drawings in here for him to use and gather information from. There had to be  _ some _ . She  _ Ioved  _ drawing a little smiley face of herself when signing contracts. There had to be something… 

He wound up flipped all the way to the back, where he did finally find a picture, but it was not a sketch that could suggest what was being said in her language, but an actual picture, one carefully secured in its place in the back of the diary. Snatcher stared down at it, taking in the subjects. 

It was the kid, a little younger, maybe by a year. She had the biggest smile on her lips, eyes shining playfully, looking very content in the arms that held her. She was held by a man, his hair thick, curly, and brown, wearing a blue overcoat, with a soft, toothy, equally playful grin on his lips. Unlike her, his eyes were closed in glee for the picture, hugging the kid closely.

Snatcher was an already cold being, both in actual essence and feelings. Of what he was able to feel, a lot of it was what he felt with his passing.

Among those feelings was a numb shock, and it came back to him. It made him feel colder, shaken, and just unsure of how to process this. 

Cause that picture, who was with that kid, who he guessed was her father…

That, that looked like him. Back when he was... 

The thought registered in his mind and it took all of Snatcher’s will to not slam the diary closed. With shaking claws, he flipped it back to the last entry and slithered out of the fort and into the shadows, going back to his hollow. He was quite certain that if he saw that kid again right now, he was going to scream. 

Later when she returned, the kid paused to see that Snatcher was gone, his book left behind among his candles. She shrugged it off and headed to bed, too worn out to ponder it. She was ready to sleep this day away… 


	2. What ifs and What Could've Been

Snatcher’s thoughts were running a mile a minute. Questions of how, who, what, where, and  _ how _ ?

He died. Early twenties specifically.

He and Vanessa were split, never to get together again. 

There was no kid here. There never was. Not till she came and wandered in his woods. She doesn't exist, shouldn't exist, there's no way…

She was an oddity. But, she was one that came with an answer. She came with  _ time pieces _ . That could  _ time travel _ . That could mean that there could be  _ alternative timelines _ .

It was the best Snatcher could come up with, without asking her. There was even no guarantee that she would even answer if he asked. So, that left him to guessing and that's what he could guess. She's a time traveler. She, she had to come from an alternative time. She had to be from something… happier.

Or was it even happy?

It was just him, no Vanessa in the picture. And that could mean a number of things. Maybe they, maybe kid and  _ her father _ , we're close. Maybe she had a picture of Vanessa somewhere on her ship. Maybe there was only time to grab that picture and nothing else? 

And if so, what happened? Why was she here? What was going on? Was she in trouble? Was there danger back home?

...did he die again?

Was she truly alone?

Snatcher gaze out into his forest, his thoughts a mess from confusion of all this, unsure how he should feel, how should he react, or what he should do. What do you do when you're a bitter shadow who discovered you have a daughter? Mindful, she was from another time. Did that still make her his daughter? Does that count? 

Did she ever exist here? Was she an almost?

His thoughts in a blur, he barely noticed his minions eyeing into his hollow, unsure of what to do with Snatcher’s vacant expression. Do they ask if he's ok? Do they poke him? Was it worth the risk of his rage?

They jumped when Snatcher disappeared, and uneasy, they scuttled away to hide. If Snatcher was up for tricks, best not to get caught in them. 

But, it was no trick this time. Not tonight. Tonight, Snatcher found the manor was silent and dark, nothing stirring as he manifested from the shadows. He took it in, the chilling hollow feeling returning. For the first time in a lifetime, he was braving the walls he had once thought of as his home. But there was no happiness in seeing them, no warm feelings, no sense of security; even this nursery they had set up long ago gave an eerie feeling. 

It was supposed to be exciting and uplifting to have this room. He had been so thrilled, as had she. A baby. Their child. Their future happy family, now a frosty relic of a could've been. 

He neared the cradle, setting his claws on the railing, staring down at the perfectly placed blanket, ever still waiting for the little child. They had made the agreement to try for a child upon their marriage, which was going to be in the winter… which came sooner than anticipated, freezing everyone but her to death.

A broken smile slid over his lips. “You really screwed us, Vannie,” he whispered. She could’ve been here in front of him, truly his, safe in his shadow, with warm hands to hold her, a heartbeat for her to hear, and an offer of love he could've given. But now… 

**_“Whooooo’s theeeeeere?”_ ** Vanessa called out in her twisted up, broken voice, her heavy steps coming near the nursery.  **_“My Prince? That youuuuu? Where have you beeeen. I've been waiting!”_ ** She finished it with a wild shriek, bursting into the room, ice seeping into it. 

But there was no one there, not a soul to be seen and Vanessa couldn’t sense anyone else in the house. With a hollow gurgle, she turned and wandered down the hall, muttering to herself as ice trailed after her… 


	3. A Step Forward

Snatcher’s face was very close, closer than she would like in this moment of time, perched on her pillow, rewatching her cartoon. It was actually very distracting, especially with his eyes narrowed like that, like she was some puzzle to solve. So, tired of being closely studied, she did the only logical thing: when he was least expecting it, she turned and messed with his fluff.

It worked as Snatcher drew away with a grumble, offended by her touch; though not enough to make the normally boisterous shadow leave. But space given back to her, she turned back to her show, ready to relax and enjoy. Only, Snatcher bent down once more, frowning as he watched it with her. Thankfully, he kept more of a distance this time, and just stared at the tv for a few minutes. 

She did her best to just ignore him. 

Though, it was ironic how the tables have turned today. For once she wanted alone time and yet here he was refusing to leave. She wondered what prompted such a switch. 

As minutes dragged on, Snatcher finally broke the silence, grumbling, “I can't understand this at all.” 

She was unsurprised.

“What language is that?” he asked. 

She blinked at him, knowing he wouldn't understand or recognize her words. He grimaced at her silence. “How is it that you can read and understand us, but can't, or won't, speak our language?”

He got a devil may care smile, making him huff. “Is it some weird choice to not talk?”

She answered him, letting a few of her words slip out, alien to his ears as she was to this world. “That's no help,” he grumbled, coming to lounge across her floor, watching her odd robot slide around. 

It was weird that she didn't talk. Being his kid, he'd imagine she knew their language and could talk. What made her choose not to, when she could clearly read and understand everyone here? And her alien language… did he not settle on this planet? Did he move away to a different planet that spoke her language? Or, different timeline, different reality, where he grew up on a different planet?

Snatcher’s head was starting to hurt thinking up all of these possibilities and factors. And worst of all, the solution was simple: learn.

But it was not so simple when he couldn't ask, not with this kid hardly breathing a word of this planet language; and the possibility that she just may not answer him, following rules of time travel that often sets up not being allowed to share information. 

...There could be one way to learn. It may not provide him much, but its a step in some sort of direction. 

“Hey, kid. I got a challenge for you.”

She glanced his way. He offered her his big, silly grin. “What if you taught me your language?” he asked. 

She looked surprised, raising a brow at him. Then she frowned, pursing her lips, looking unsure. 

“Just think of the fun we could have,” he tempted. “A language shared strictly between two BFFs. We could mock everyone that's annoying and they'll never know.”

She looked like she was struggling to resist, and he finished it with a coy wink. She caved to it with a giggle, running to her room. She came back seconds later, a few books in her arms. His smile fell away when he saw what she brought him. “Children's books?” he noted dryly.

“You gotta start somewhere,” she said, her voice as strange as she was, soft, playful, and chirpy. 

He picked up a random book from the stack, eyeing the strange symbols, none of which made sense to him. “How about an alphabet?” he asked.

She was back again with sheets of paper and crayons. As Snatcher started to leaf through the picture books, she was off writing out her alphabet, matching it up to his own at the best of her ability. 

By the time she was yawning and ready for bed, Snatcher was proud to say that he could pronounce a handful of her alphabet, could say some greeting, and learned a cursed word, though what it was he had no idea. She kept breaking down into giggles every time he uttered it. 

It was a little bit of progress, at least. 


	4. Nosy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we got fanart! by multiversal-pudding on tumblr! Thank you for the amazing piece!   
> https://imthepunchlord.tumblr.com/post/187564908087/multiversal-pudding-i-drew-the-picture-from-a

Snatcher wondered half the time if this endeavor was worth it.

He was already dead, and this kid had an agenda of her own. Whether she was his from another time and reality, it made things moot at this point. She had no importance to his existence in this time and world. If anything, he should be readily preparing for the day she leaves.

Yet, despite how annoying she can be and the foreseeable heartbreak he was going to experience, he was humoring this.

He had moved down from his perch, now lounged on this mound of pillows she made, leafing through her books. He was delighted to find that it wasn’t strictly children books she had, but some “boring books” as she referred to them, on her bookshelf as well. Books covering unique cases that happened in her home, books he anticipated his counterpart put there to read and amuse himself with.

And now that he mostly grasped their language and could read a lot of it, these were fascinating, books about murders that happened in her old home. With cases like these stored in her ship, set on a shelf that’s hard for her to reach, it gave Snatcher an idea what his living counterpart did, and possibly why she was here, traveling on her own.

“I don’t know if you should be reading those.”

He glanced down, seeing her paused from where she sat on the floor, surrounded by her toys. She continued, “Those are Papa’s books. He doesn’t even like me touching them.”

“Well, I’m not his kid,” Snatcher shot back. “And I’m a shadow. I do what I want.” And he was the ghost of her father, from another time and reality. This could technically count as his books too.

She pursed her lips, warning him, “Papa may come back and give you a talking to.”

“I believe it,” he said, unsure how to react if he met his living counterpart, who would be unaware that he’s meeting his shade from another reality where things didn’t work out and took the worst turn. After a thought, and a few seconds to really weigh this next question, Snatcher cautiously asked, “What of… your mother, kid?”

She made an ‘I-don’t-know’ noise.

“What sort of answer is that,” he huffed.

“A none of your business, answer.”

Snatcher squirmed a little on his lounge of pillows, huffing at the attitude. He turned his gaze onto the kid, trying to see Vanessa in her. But, much of what he could see seemed to be more him. He wondered if Vanessa was even the mother. He presumed, they had been planning on trying, but coming from an alternate reality…

“Why do you ask?” she wondered.

“Cause I’m nosy,” he answered.

She shot him a smug, playful smile. “I can be nosy too.”

“I know you can,” he grumbled. “I recall a certain brat coming back when she’s unwelcomed, running around my woods like she owns the place, and doing who knows what.” All he got was a cheeky smile. The brat.

Though, he supposed now, technically those were also her woods, since she was his spawn from another realm.

Snatcher paused, sensing eyes on him. He looked up, seeing a pensive expression on her face as she peered at him. “What?” he snapped.

She shook her head, resuming her game. Snatcher frowned her way, then went back to reading. Even if she was his from another realm, it didn’t change that she was a weird child. Why did he end up with a weird kid? 


	5. Of Sneaks and Ploys

When she came home one day to find that Snatcher had moved himself in, she can honestly say that she was surprised, amused, and a tad put off. 

Despite clearly reading a book of  _ How to Kill Children _ so openly around her, he never outwardly did anything. At least, nothing that she could pick up on. 

And then came this shift in interest and things became more involved. Not to say that it was bad, but she was feeling smothered in her own ship. Snatcher was there every time she came back, gradually turning her room into his own, piling candles along her shelves, placing the occasional mask on the wall, his lawyer books and stack of contracts, and she even found a mushroom being grown in the corner. 

She laid on the floor, lips pursed, listening to Rumbi hum as he slid around, chirping merrily. “What to do,” she asked aloud, feeling Rumbi bump into her, beep, then scoot away. 

“It was kinda funny at first,” she continued. “But now it has gotten kinda old.” 

Rumbi made a sort of static noise. 

She rolled onto her belly, humming at that. “Maybe,” she murmured. Maybe that is all he’d need. Maybe it’d be enough for her to reclaim her old room. She smiled playfully. Plus, it would be funny… 

* * *

It was quiet when Snatcher manifested from the shadows, quiet enough that it gave Snatcher the sense that she left to who knows where. And as her alternate timeline father, he should probably be more aware of where she goes. He frowned, uncertain. But should he? She’s been wandering on her own long before he discovered this, and it's not like he can really keep her in one place, she didn’t even stay when she was bound by a contract, unlike most others. 

But, realization of fatherhood, that did change things, don’t they?

Much has already been changed. 

He sighed loudly, muttering to himself, “This is confusing.” How much does he change? Does he join her and watch over her now? Leave her be? Have his minions stalk after her? Or have her stay here and his forest, where he can watch over her and raise her? Was his counterpart even alive? Why did he allow her to drift around alone? 

What is fatherhood and how do you father? He died in his twenties, he does not have access to this experience and knowledge of parenthood. And being dead, it was entirely lost. And being a shadow...well, shadows don’t have the warmest of emotions lingering around them. Vanessa could confirm, the coldness of darkness consumed and covered her. There’d never be any warmth to her. 

And none to him. 

Emotionally he was lost and jumbled. Cold to the core. 

And it was all challenged by this discovery, this sudden obligation he cared to humor. 

His glowing eyes glanced to the pile of pillows, now left unguarded in her absence. And he was now quite a master of her language and literature… he slithered close, looming over the pile and starting to seep in— 

There was a sharp beep behind him and Snatcher paused, looking over to see Rumble-something-or-other glaring at him, letting out a shrill noise. 

“Shoo,” he hissed at it. 

It made a displeased rumble, not leaving and just giving him that persistent glare. Making a face at it, he dipped his long arm in the shadows, letting it appear in the center of the ship and dropping mushroom spores on the floor. “Oops,” he said, “there’s a mess, I wonder who did that.” 

It glared at him, then spun around, off to do its job. 

He really is a bit mystified how that thing is able to keep this place so clean. 

Dismissing the thought, he slipped in, his claws coming near the diary, hesitating a little. With narrowed eyes, he grabbed it and held it close, starting to leaf through it. He found her first day on this planet, and how some grunt broke in and left her stranded. He found her stuck in a feud between two birds (though one she’s sure what sort of bird it was). And, he found entries about him. 

Majority of how he was a jerk and she spitefully declared that she could do whatever she wanted in his woods. 

“Brat,” he muttered, his eye twitching. 


	6. Trouble is in Subcon

The minion ran as quickly as its little legs could carry him, anxious having not seen Snatcher around for a while. Was the great shade up to something? Some new trick or torment, and he was biding his time? Or was he busy boarding up all the mail? 

This minion was brave enough to near the shadow and see what Snatcher had in mind, what was he up to.

While, as brave as he was in his approach, he slowed as he neared the hollow that Snatcher made his home, a fearful nervousness settling over him. Trembling, he ran inside and dropped down into a bow, practically shouting, “Master Snatcher! I’ve come to deliver the weekly reports!” 

“Oh? What do you have to report, uh, Bob?” 

“Oh its actually Ramond…” the minion trailed as he looked up, for there, sitting in Snatcher’s chair like she owned, was the Hat Kid. She smiled at him, looking smug and cheeky, a playfulness that left him unnerved. “Th-that’s a, that’s S-Snatcher’s chair…” 

“Well, since he took over my home, I’m taking over his,” she declared, then added, taking out the contract she colored over, “plus, it's in our contract. I own all this forest and can do what I want.” 

“Um… didn’t he say that contracts don’t work like that?” 

“Your point is rejected, fool!” 

“Ok.”

“So,” she started off, lounging back in his grand chair, arms and legs crossed. “You have a report for me?” 

“Yes! The fire spirits are coming back!” 

“I’ll take care of those.” 

“Thank you, uh, My Lady? Do you, uh, have anything you wish or that you command?” 

Her smile grew. “I’m glad you asked…” 

The minion was very nervous. 

* * *

Snatcher placed the book down, making sure to leave it where he found it so she won’t be suspicious, feeling sour that she hadn’t written any answers about what was going on with her. With a loud grumble, he rose out, but paused when he heard a soft gasp below. 

He looked down, seeing an orange cat peer up at him with wide eyes. 

He narrowed his, his fluff puffing up. “Who are you?” he asked, letting his voice bellow and echo, satisfied to see this cat take a step back. 

“Cookie, here to check up on the girl,” the cat answered, then glared back at him, still nervous. “Who are you, why are you on her ship?” 

“That’s none of your business, cat.” 

“It’s plenty my business when I find a frightening spook in her home!” 

He leaned down, taking satisfaction in how she backed away. “And I found some stray cat that let herself in…” 

“Delivering food,” she said. 

“Oh.” He drew away, aware that is something she needs as a still living being. 

“Now, who are you?” she demanded. 

“Eh, let’s say a guardian of sorts,” he offered. “She did a few favors for me then persisted to stay in my presence. Now I come to haunt here occasionally.” 

She didn’t look reassured by that. “Where is she?” 

“Don’t know,” he admitted. 

The cat put her paws on her hips, giving the shadow a stern look. “What sort of guardian are you if you don’t know where she is.” 

“She’s technically been on her own long before she met me—”

“And you think that should stay like that?” 

He made a slight face at her, then with a grumble, he disappeared, heading back to his forest, not in the mood of this random cat sassing him off. Only when he returned, he went still, taking in the colorful balloons and streamers and confetti that filled his forest, the  _ cheers _ and  _ laughter  _ replacing the eeriness he had set up in his woods. 

“What the…” he whipped around, taking in just how much more  _ festive _ his forest was. It wasn’t supposed to be this festive! What happened?  _ Where did all these colors come from? Where did his gloomy atmosphere go?! _

...actually, it should be  _ who  _ happened. 

  
“ **KIIIIIID.”**


End file.
